Conviction
by KTAC
Summary: Years of planning are at the crisis point, now all that is needed is the conviction to force them to the finish. The Läufer, Royals, Verrat and The Key are all set to collide. Nick will be blindsided by an attack he couldn't anticipate. Between his family, the Grimm, and the after-effects of the kiss, Renard's masks will crack. Canon from La Llorona and adopting bits that fit.
1. Chapter 1: Latvian Gambit

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Title**: Conviction

**Chapter One**: Latvian Gambit1,2

**Notes:** First 'long' story. Footnotes at the end for clarity. Here it goes...

* * *

Nick had always loved the river, it would be a little disappointing to die on it. Now here on a container ship floating just outside of Swan Island Basin, beaten and tied-down to a chair, death was a true possibility. He didn't know why these men hadn't killed him yet. They had ambushed him as he took the trash to the curb, stunned him with a blow to the back of the head and thrown him into the back of a moving truck. There were at least a dozen of them and he had seen at least three separate scythes during the fight. He thought he had made some good hits, one or two were probably dead or badly damaged. But against so many it wasn't enough to get away and now they had The Key. After the first few furious minutes, it wasn't much of a fight more like a beat down. He didn't know which was worse his ringing head or the sensation of swallowing the blood that kept collecting in his mouth. He was attempting to keep his thoughts positive; focusing on all of the ways that things could go wrong could rob him of the time he needed to think a way out of this.

Nick focused on trying to loosen his rope bindings, but couldn't seem to make any progress. How long had it been since he was taken? Did anyone even know he was gone? Juliette had headed upstairs for the night. He would need to assume that no one was coming. When the guards seemed to stiffen and then straightened, Nick paused. Two sets shoes were approaching from behind, the click of dress shoes and high-heels ringing against the decking.

"Hi, Nick remember me?" The phase drifting over to Nick in the sickly sweet tone and pretending purity of Adalind Schade. Nick snapped his already injured head up to glare a her, and his vision swam. "How's Juliette?" Nick glare focused and intensified.

A deep mocking chuckle drew Nick's attention to the man Adalind had entered with. Between the head injury and a his anger he hadn't even considered him yet.

"So this is the Grimm that has been such an irritant. He looks intense but not particularly that threatening." He sounded European, was this the Royal a the heart of his problems?

"Well he doesn't typically go around decorated with his own blood or tied-up." Adalind gleefully added in. The Royal considered the area around him and seemed to judge it as below him, filthy.

One of the suit clad thugs stepped forward. "Sir." The thug handed The Key over to the Royal. "He killed three of my men, sir. May I claim my revenge and have the honor of cutting off his head?"

"Three? Against all of you, none of your men should have fallen." The thug took the dismissal for what it was, stepped back into place with a final glare at the Grimm. The Royal briefly considered The Key before wrapping the object in his handkerchief and placing it the side pocket of a very expensive looking suit. The Royal's eyes scanned across Nick's features, evaluating him anew. "Three, even for a Grimm that's...not bad. There are those who seem quite impressed with you." The Royal drew in closer just off to Nick's right, so Nick's eyes narrowed and he shifted back to the left away from the man. The Royal seemed to enjoy this reaction.

"Eric..." Adalind warned, the guard stiffened and Eric causally waved them both off.

"I would so enjoy transforming your expression into its proper form of fear." Nick drew back farther, and Eric followed, further mocking. "But alas there just isn't enough time on this trip for both business and pleasure. And I would hate to ruin the surprise for I have planned for you."

Nick's eyebrow twitched upward, and Eric's expression didn't even have enough time to change before Nick slammed his head forward. Contact was made and followed with the wet sound of a nose being broken; next where the sounds of a less than dignified yelp of shock and a Royal backside connecting with the deck. The guard came forward but not before Nick split a load of collected blood and saliva onto the splayed out form before him. Sending the man skittering, crab walking backward to safety, wide-eyed and covered in blood. Two guards helped Eric to his feet.

"I told you he was dangerous." Adalind haughty chimed in. Eric's reaction was quick, violent and born of hurt pride. From his not yet completely upright form he twisted and back-handed Adalind sending her shocked and crumbling to the floor.

"You forget yourself, you spayed bitch. Even a fixed hexenbiest touching and fawning over me makes my skin crawl. Did you honestly think I would repeat my Father's mistakes." To be made to look like a fool among these his men like this was not acceptable. The Grimm was one matter, but that tone from a subordinate was unacceptable, Eric was confident that this correction would improve her attitude greatly. Furthermore, Adalind's pain and humiliation would shift focus to her and away from his pained voice and bloodied form. Adalind glared up, but quickly averted her eyes.

"Nice friends you have." Nick added in, "Even when I knew you attacked my Aunt, I never treated you so poorly." This hit Adalind worse than Eric's blow. What Nick said was truthful, an attempt by him to turn her against Eric. An attempt so obvious to her that Adalind couldn't even pin him with manipulation. Nick was just speaking his mind. Adalind seemed to have an attraction to powerful men that were only interested in using her as a pawn. She blinked to stop tears from forming in her eyes. She was supposed to be manipulating Eric into doing what she wanted. Into carrying out her revenge. But all he wanted was The Key and to entrap his brother, she was a just a means to an end. Now that he has The Key her use was at an end, Eric would just toy with her now maybe even kill her. Nick only did what was needed, he didn't humiliate those he bested. He'd kill her if he had the chance, she had proven herself too dangerous. Perhaps this was something Eric needed reminded of.

"Not that you have completely outlived your usefulness, Adalind." Eric bit out, in that mocking tone she once found playful and now found infuriating. "I appear to be in need of a new shirt, I have Grimm all over this one. Go fetch my bags." Eric needed to learn not to play with his food. It would be suicide to do anything too direct or too violent, but that didn't mean she needed to accept this.

She rose feinting wantonness and hurt to cover the rage she felt, she rose and approached him; "Eric, there are many uses I have left. Uselessness is something I will never surrender to." Adalind moved in close to Eric and shamelessly groped. His shock and disgust at the display over-whelmed him, the audacity! The only person who noticed Adalind's other hand was Nick. Eric certainty didn't notice his load lighten by several significant grams.

"LEAVE! You will never touch me again! If I ever see you again from this night on, I'll have you gutted."

"As you wish my Prince." Adalind curtsied and the crowd on the deck watched as she left the ship and walked down the dock to the parking lot out to the car that Eric and she had arrived in. She asked the driver for help removing bags from the trunk. As the driver exited the car Adalind stabbed him with a sedative, and he crumbled to the ground. She closed the trunk, stepped over the driver's prone form and took his seat. And drove off; it's hardly as if Eric could report the car as stolen.

"You two go collect those bags. Now!" Eric raged at two goons standing next to him. And then mostly to himself, "Gods I hate Portland."

* * *

Two weeks before Nick's capture and an ocean away there was a small gathering engaged in a terse conversation. The crisis time was approaching, and they were having to accelerate their time-lines. The Läufer3 had been planning this action for over decade. Blood split, small operations, insurrections, scraps of information gathered and held; all built toward the moments to come. And now there was only rushing, they were running out of time. The Royal families were beginning to come together, consolidating their power and focus behind Prince Eric. Information was that within a year Eric would arise to the throne; if not by the health of the King then by regicide. While the father was no more loved than the son; the elder never held the same level of ambition and shear psychotic enjoyment in causing fear. Eric referred to fear as the mortar of power. He would work at extracting it from the unfortunate souls trapped in the castle dungeons as some would a hobby. Information was needed for Eric's goals; however information gathered this way is notoriously inaccurate. Eric knows this, so rarely uses the information without additional confirmation.

The Verrat4 were also bearing their force on the Wessen5 world in an attempt strike fear into any who would think to oppose them and Eric's new world order. But as such efforts often produce, it offered an increase of support for the Läufer efforts. The money helped, but the new recruits were more of a drain on resources then anything else. No one new could be risked to even know that there was a big plan in the works. They were good to send on a constant raids. However nothing they could brought back could be trusted. All this did was keep the Verrat busy, believing that they were unorganized and desperate.

Key members of the Resistance were in peril and portions of the plan at risk, one was captured and the other compromised. Ian Harmon and a small trusted team were on their way to rescue the first member; then the group will continue to Portland for the second. Eric was beginning a long trip build his power among the families, at the same time his father would be vacationing with his latest mistress. Their absence would automatically reduce security in the castle, human nature would reduce it even more. After four months stuck Eric's dungeon even a gargoyle would have a hard time recovering quickly enough. Physically there just wasn't enough time for her to be 100% even with quick healing to recover. She would be in charge of protecting key assets in Portland until the operation was done, ideally she wouldn't even need to fight. But Kay has always resilient, she knew the stakes; if anyone could hold off the break-down, it was her.

The pivot point of the plan rested in the fact that the Verrat and Royal families hadn't advanced with modern times. Considering their fanatical focus on the old ways this is hardly surprising. But even they began using the internet. Not for any of their high-level planning, just for their banking, real estate dealings and travel; from which a wealth of information could be mined. The Mellifers6 were masters at this. Allies, enemies, mistresses and liabilities have been determined. Who they were financing and where; the why was never stated but could typically be implied or found out by those working on the inside. They have been able to identify the locations and the habits of the Verrat high command, and several training bases. The plan was to execute a segmented attack where any one action could be a success without being dependent on the success of another operation. The idea was that if all these small teams attack strategically, the temporary confusion will increase the likelihood of success of all of the units. However any unit, or handful of units failing would only stop a small portion of the plan. With the exception of Portland unit, of course, however that attack would be unlike anything the royals have seen before. The operation would be a combination of direct attack, sabotage and internet warfare. They were set to destroy or transfer approximately 75% of royal held liquid wealth; all over lines of bandwidth. Some of the monies transferred out to support the resistance, some currently tied up in Ponzi schemes and boiler room stocks will be locked down and rendered valueless. The same royal families that directly bank roll the Verrat, would begin to have payroll issues. The Verrat would be injured by the attack as well, critically so if at least 12 out of the 20 members of the high command could be assassinated. They mostly likely wouldn't implode, but with a crippled command and reduced financial support their power would be greatly reduced. It would be the single greatest victory since WWII, if; if they get it to work.

Most lands and physical assets were still out of there ability to disrupt but in the current financial market these would be cumbersome and sold at vast discounts. Hopefully these combined losses alone would cause some of the Families to shrink back from Eric. Eric's land and assets would be given special attention. Already a population of endangered brown bears had been established on some of his lands, any attempt to sell would be wrapped up in legal battles and red tape for years. He would come to find his other properties with problems ranging from sink holes, to veracious termite infestations and newly found unexploded ordnance from WWII; which had been gingerly moved in years ago. His prized collections of cars and paintings; have been either been replaced with forgeries or would be burnt. They would make an example of the worst of the Royals. Hopefully this would cause the others families to flee from Eric. While attempting to completely destroy them all was tempting, leaving your enemy no path to retreat was foolish. The mistakes of previous revolutions would not be repeated here, they would take the lessons of history and apply them. Giving the other families a way to retreat would save lives and fracture cooperation within the Seven Families. Furthermore the Families would be less willing to break the terms of any brokered peace housed in the comfort of their mansions then they would cornered in bunkers. So the central members of the Läufer would push on with sleeplessness, excitement, stress and hope.

* * *

1 The Latvian Gambit defined by Wikipedia: The opening (in chess) has the appearance of a King's Gambit with colors reversed. It is an aggressive but dubious choice for Black which often leads to wild and tricky positions.

2 Gambit defined by Wikipedia: A gambit (from ancient Italian gambetto, meaning tripping) is a chess opening in which a player, most often White, sacrifices material, usually a pawn, with the hope of achieving a resulting advantageous position.

3 Läufer – The Wesen Resistance movement against the Verrat and the Seven Royal Families.

4 Verrat – Royal enforcers, charged with maintaining order in the Wessen world. Historically they have common ties with the German SS; and have executed Wessen for marring outside of their race.

5 Wesen – Have you ever watched Grimm? Basically all of the 'monsters'.

6 Mellifers – Bee Wessen adept at communications and manipulating the digital world.


	2. Chapter 2: Retrieval and Treason

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Title**: Conviction

**Chapter Two**: Retrieval and Treason

**Notes:** Thank you for the review and follows! Happy Holidays!

* * *

Ian Harmon didn't doubt the mission to rescue Kay, she was strong, trusted and always good to have in a fight. She had saved his life more than once when he was new in the Läufer, and she was one of the few Ian could lean on when times got rough. The team had been able to enter the castle according to plan, they sneaked across a courtyard and killed the two guards posted at the side entrance. They hadn't even run into any patrols in the forests surrounding the property. Apparently the security had dropped to an even lower levels than estimated. While Ian appreciated that it made this portion of the mission simpler; he worried why Eric would have removed so many of his force at this time. Three more guards were dispatched quickly and they collected Kay into the fabric EVAC gurney sling. Kay's groans from being shifted around were muffled, hopefully a sign of her remaining strength and not fragility. Their only hiccup was running into a servant, lucky one sympathetic to their cause, she offered to led to group out. They avoided any further contact with guards inside of the castle. They got back the van and Mr. Calvert was waiting to patch up Kay, and they were off.

The van bumped along the road, the passengers not speaking as a pregnant silence enveloped them. The distance from the castle was metered out in small groans and the squeaks of the van springs. Everyone could smell blood, burnt flesh, antiseptic and herbs concentrated in the small space. In the light her wounds were visible and grotesque, Ian didn't know how she was still alive, much less how she could fight if needed. One eye was gone, with burnt flesh and blood where the eye once was. Bones at unnatural angles, flesh torn, teeth clenched together, her expression screaming agony; Ian could only hope that the woman he knew was still there. Layers of grime, blood caked dry and fresh spilt from reopened wounds covered her. Ian won't even know where to start. Calvert shoved a needle firmly in her arm and she passed out, quickly follow by hooking her up to a machine to monitor her breathing and heart rate. The beat seem to be quicker than it should be but Ian knew little about Gargoyle physiology. All told, he was just glad to hear that she was alive and to see her face looking less pain filled. Fighting for as long as they have, these individuals become family, more than just assets even if as a leader he had to treat them as such. Ian had sent her on the mission that resulted in her capture, his failure in identifying a low ranking mole had doomed her to this. The small victory of retrieving her felt gutted, and Ian knew the images in front of him would haunt his nights but could not look away.

* * *

Ian had called in his concerns about the lack of personnel in the French castle. Four days later there were still no signs as to where Eric and his people had gone; or what his plans entailed. Ian suspected that it was a grab for power either for a Key or an attempt on his father's life. Kay still wasn't awake, she had been kept unconscious, in a healing sleep. She had been cleaned up, wounds bandaged and bones set. The apothecary said that with enough time her eye would regrow- that would be the last physical wound to heal and could take months. Some of the smaller scrapes and cuts had already sealed and her skin had adopted all sorts of shades of blueish-black, red and a sickly fading yellow. Unspoken was the topic of mental wounds. Today they would wake her, and ask her if she could be counted on for the mission ahead.

Ian sat in the bedside chair and watched as the last of Kays bandages were removed and replaced. Calvert then took out a jar labeled Spirit of Hartshorn, a bottle of transparent yellow oil and mixed into a bowl of hot liquid. The smell of eucalyptus and ammonia rose in the steam, a funnel and hose was snapped to the top of the bowl to guide the steam towards Kay's face. After a few breathes, her nose wrinkled and head turned as she woke and the lids of her eyes drifted open. As the bowl was removed, Kay's eye scanned the room, taking in the surroundings. A glass of water was brought up to her lips, she didn't drink. She glared, then slowly took the glass into her own hand, weakly, before taking in a few mouthfuls. Mr. Calvert started talking telling Kay how long she was held in the dungeons and listing her injuries but Ian wasn't really listening. Instead he was watching Kay's body language.

An atypically graveled voice, Kay spoke up, "Thanks for patching me up Apples." Mr. Calvert smiled at the nickname, the first time Ian had seen the expression since loading Kay into the van. Kay then looked at Ian, "What's the next move? And hows the timeline?"

"I need to know a few things first." Ian replied his tone soft and concern evident.

"They didn't get shit out of me. I manipulated Eric more than he did me. All he got off of me was a reflection of his own beliefs, he doesn't even know I'm resistance." Coughing, followed by some sips of water broke-off Kay's report momentarily. "I convinced him I was working for Sean, gathering information that could be used to raise his status among the families. Eric's power grab will be soon. Sounds like he won't go after his father until he's secured power; that he'll pass blame to him for anything that goes wrong in the first steps. He may have said that to throw me off, in case I was able to get word to his brother but I don't think so. I think Eric may be headed to Portland, I would really like to be there and return some of his hospitality."

"Four months is a long time. Why didn't he kill you?"

"He would say it was because I was a challenge, I never broke enough to lose his interest. But I think it because I was one of the few people to show him genuine kindness." Ian looked confused at this so Kay continued. "His mother was quite cold, and most others only calculating for position. When we were kids and I was working in the kitchens, I would be the one to nurse Eric through illness. Or, when his father was drunk I, or Sean, would run interference."

"You did all that for him and he still tortured you?"

"Well, he's always been a little self-important sadist. Being protected, well he resented it. That he would need help from someone below him was, intolerable. Whether a kitchen slave or bastard half-breed, half-royal, half-brother."

"That's a lot of halves."

"Yes. But Eric was always fond of pointing them out now and when he was younger."

"Why did you protect him then?"

"He was younger then me and Sean. We just tried to shield him from it, not that we always could."

"Bet you regret bothering now."

Kay inhaled slowly and closed her eyes. "No. He may have chosen cruelty. But I can live with the choices I have made."

Ian took strength from the conversation, although the voice responding was weather-worn and her form still battered, the rock he knew was still there. Kay was never one for vengeance, if the situation called for violence she would make the deaths quick. "The next move is to Portland, the time-line is down to days now. Eric and the Verrat have taken out more of our people, if we don't move soon it may be too late. Eric and a load of his people have disappeared. And while I would love to heard he and his people crashed their fancy jet into a volcano or something... I'm not betting on being that lucky. You have about a week to be ready, and I'm not even sure what we'll be facing. Will you be ready?"

She got to her feet, slowly, her expression stone. Really, there was no way to know. But that didn't matter, there was only one answer; "Yes."

* * *

Renard was watching, waiting his patience and control wear thin. He should be investigating rumors that his brother was coming to Portland to over see collecting The Key himself. He had checked flights and passport activity; but really these were things that a Royal could get around with minor inconvenience. Instead of doing the things he needed to insure his plan were a success, instead of insuring he survived the next months, he was stalking Juliette. The potion the apothecary gave him would only insure he could not consummate an affair with her, or worst lose total control and rape her. The compulsion was so strong now that it was only that latter concern that had him continuing to take the vile concoction. If that was the way Nick found out about him, it would be Renard's body being fished from the river next. He really should have killed Adalind after the whole incident with Hank. Now was possibly the worst time to be distracted by an unwanted compulsion, for the girlfriend of a Grimm and detective in his department only made it more complicated. This wasn't love, it was obsession. Love would make him want to see her, with happiness. The obsession was like a drug he wanted, it make him feel good; but it was hollow, wrong and he couldn't stop. But that was the reason he was watching Juliette's house, hiding across the street in the bushes with binoculars, like some common creep.

It was from that view point that Renard saw the moving truck's rear door opened suddenly and spilled out a contingent of fourteen fighters; Eric's men, Verrat and Reapers. A force this large, Eric was undoubtedly in Portland. A quick blow to the back of Nick's head meant to stun not kill; and Nick was tossed into the truck. Renard took the plate number out of habit; he knew who had Nick but still the information could be useful. He had some time Eric would not kill Nick quickly. It was difficult to leave Juliette knowing she could be targeted next. The compulsion would allow it as Eric was now a danger to her as well; eliminating him as a threat would keep her safe.

Renard jogged off to his SUV, dialing in the station and assigning an officer to look for any information on the truck. Indicating that it was probably a rental, and to look for any other vehicles rented at the same time or my the same credit card. He was having GQR ships tracked; time to see how many ships were in Portland. Pulling out his tablet, there were two GQR ships at port, both docked within the last thirty-six hours. The second ship was newer and docked with the last twelve hours, it was also newer and thus more likely to be used by his brother. His phone rang, the van and two cars had been rented that morning under the same credit card. Eric was not used to hiding his activities that would cost him this time. He headed over to the port to check the vessels. Pulling dialing in a number into his phone as he drove off.

"C'est Moi, êtes-vous ici? (1)" After few moments of hearing the response, "Bon. Eric est ici aussi et il a l'Grimm éventuellement la Clé. Oui, Oui. Je le traque maintenant, il va falloir faire vite. Eric a apporté beaucoup d'hommes avec lui, je vais avoir besoin d'aide." Renard grimaces slightly at the response but then nods, "Ce serait préfet. Bonne chance." Renard then sent the vehicle information and plate numbers to his associates, outfitted with copies Portland Police squad cars and uniforms. To any officer in the area it would look like the cars were just outside of their precinct. Hopefully the cars and the occupants would be easy to pick off.

Renard parked a fair distance from the first ship he was going to investigate. His brother would assume Renard didn't know about his presence yet, best to keep it that way for as long as was prudent. He kept to the shadows and a with an unnatural silence advanced on the position. He was at the right ship, although he had suspected he had missed some resent development. The sight that greeted him was the sight of two of his brother's slightly slack-jawed sycophants apparently arguing with each other over which soccer team was better; rather then properly guarding the dock. There did not appear to be any security cameras in the area, at least Eric had taken that precaution. No one was watching from the deck and from the sporadic jeers that could faintly be heard Nick was most likely the focus of those on board. Hopefully he could hold out a little longer. Renard drew out two guns fitted with silencers in his leather gloved hands and waited for the start of the next jeer. The noise and the attention would insure he would be unobserved. At the precise moment Renard pounced with predatory brutality, firing into the skulls of two the oblivious henchmen. Deftly catching their collars, guns still in hand, and before their now hallow bodies could get halfway to the ground. He pulled, propelling the bodies back with him into the cover shadows.

As Renard deposited the bodies out of view, there was the sound of cautious footsteps approaching his position. He stood tall and seemed to sink into the shadow around him. Typically he was unnoticeable to humans or wessen that passed him within even a couple of feet. Instead about twenty yards away the figure stopped, looking directly at the area Renard stood in and produced a dark chuckle. This occurrence would have most men some level of panic. For Renard the reaction was hope, confirmed when the figure moved in close enough for Renard to recognize her. Renard retreated away from the ship and toward the figure.

"Hello, Sean" They met an deeply embraced. Then Sean pulled away and looked at Kay's mangled form before looking her in the eye.

"It's been too long, but there isn't time now. Nick's life and the Key are in jeopardy. I've taken out the only guards I could see down here. I'll board the ship unnoticed and gather some information. I might need you to get us out of there quickly. If I run my hand through my hair get us both out. If hold the back of my neck just get Nick out."

"I don't want to leave you on that boat."

"I'll only stay if completely necessary."

"Fine. Phillip is in a car on the other side of the river. I'll evacuate out across the water, it should slow or eliminate any chase. I'll get in the air, give be a least 5 minutes to get enough height before confronting him."

They split and quickly moved to make it to their positions. Renard boarded the ship directly behind Eric's ship; four minutes. From his view point he could make out some of the individuals on board, including Nick and his brother. Nick's wrists were bound behind him, and he was surrounded; three minutes left. He produced a quick report of the forces aboard, emailing it to Phillip. He would pass along the information; two minutes. He approached noticing a guard where the two boats were nearest, Renard waited for another jeer. Leaping an impressive distance and simultaneously shooting the guard in the back of the head; one minute. Renard landed soundlessly, and slowed the body as it fell to prevent any sound announcing his presence prematurely.

It was time. As one of the thugs raised his hand to land another blow to the battered Grimm, Renard's voice rang out cold, commanding and emotionless.

"STOP."

The thug lowered his hand out of surprise and training to follow the word of Royals as law. Eric looked up at the interloper, his nose broken and clothes splattered in blood. It was satisfying to know Nick had at least gotten in one good shot; but in this situation it would be unwise to point it out.

Eric's smiling was ugly and cruel, "Tisk-tisk. Didn't anyone teach you to wait until you're invited to the party, before making an appearance? Not that _you're _typically invited to any worth going to." The crowd tittered at this comment.

Nick through his blurred vision and the fog of his concussion was finally focusing on the new figure, recognizing Renard. He didn't hear any back-up. Nick fully believing that his Captain had no way to know what he was up against yelled out, "Captain, run!" To which Eric and crowd erupted into laughter.

"Oh, this is just too good." Eric taunted, switching his voice to a mocking imitation, "Captain! Captain! Run! Save yourself!" Again the laughter was repeated. Renard didn't interrupt or react, he exemplified stillness. He would even let Eric have the victory of revealing their relationship. While the information Eric was likely to reveal was problematic, at this point it was unavoidable. If Eric was gloating Renard could probably get the information he was looking for out of him.

Eric then faced Nick, "What are you worried about? That your _dear Captain_ has stumbled across a situation that he can't possibly understand." The crowd silenced baited for the reveal.

"Poor boy, he knows more than you think." Eric said focusing in on Nick's face waiting for the reaction. "It's that right _my brother_? Well half-brother, half-breed, half-royal. He's a full bastard, though." Nick's disbelief was palpable.

Nick looked to his Captain, expecting, hoping to see confusion at Eric's statements. Renard's expression retained its cold mask as he calmly approaching his brother and Nick.

Renard decided to give Eric the rest of this small victory, and confirm Eric's implication.

"Eric, if you continue to beat the Grimm senseless he'll hardly be able to tell you where the Key is." Menacing laughter broke out again. Eric planned to cherish the expression this statement brought to Nick. Shock, betrayal, and seething rage. It was one thing to have anonymous Wessen attacking and plotting against you. To have a man he knows and trusts, correct that, trusted and apparently never knew; this betrayal shook Nick to his core. Nick renewed his struggles against his bonds.

"Don't worry _brother_, I've already taken the Key from him."

"Sure you have." Renard tittered. "It's well hidden, if it's even in Portland, there's no shame in not having it yet, _little brother_."

"Watch your tongue!" Eric raged. "I out rank you Bastard, your mother was no better than a whore!"

In his anger and gloating Eric never even considered that Renard could be searching for the location of the Key himself. Instead he decided to prove his victory. Prove his brother was inept, he was able to accomplish in one day what Sean couldn't in nearly two years. Prove that the families would follow him and that if Sean didn't fall in line he would be eliminated. Sean would bend his knee and bow, or he would be forced to.

"The Key is right here!" Eric declared, reaching into his pocket and finding nothing. He looked down in panic. Checking his other pockets and then the floor.

"Misplace something important?"

"You...You did this!"

Renard raised his eyebrow, "I have no idea what you are talking about." It was the truth, but in Eric's state he would interpret it as a taunt.

"That spayed hexenbiest is in league with you!" So Adalind was in town and apparently had the Key. Renard expected she was too angry for her plan to be to turn the key over him but Eric didn't need to know that. It was tempting to rub this in Eric face but with his victory taken and his pride hurt, he would be dangerous.

"She's hard to predict but I should be able to track her down." Renard placated. It didn't work, Eric turned at him.

"You will, and you will return the Key to me, do this and you will be given the opportunity to prove your usefulness. But not before a _token_ show of loyalty." Eric demanded and Renard's eyes narrowed, nothing good would come from this.

Eric sauntered over to one of the Reapers and took his scythe. Eric deployed the blade and Renard remained still. "The Grimm you've been protecting him, _against orders_! You will cut off his head or you will not make it off this ship alive!"

The deck drew a surprise out of the those on deck, its not every day that a Prince is given such an ultimatum. From Nick the surprise was that the Captain was apparently in trouble for protecting him. Renard was not surprised, but he was grateful for Eric's mention of protection that could help in the coming days. Eric tossed the scythe toward Renard before instructing the guards to shoot him if he did anything stupid. Renard caught it in one hand, bringing the weapon to his side. Renard looked down at the vile thing, and ran a hand through his hair. Eric took this in with glee, seeing it as trepidation, uncertainty or fear; not as the signal for evacuation.

Renard waited for the sound off wings cutting through air as he approached Nick. Nick expression was the most uncomfortable Renard had ever held eye contact with; it bubbled defiance, rage, disappointment and betrayal. Renard much preferred the combination on his brother than Nick. Kay was within feet now, Renard dropped the scythe and lunged toward Nick. For a brief moment confusion swept the deck as it looked like Renard was hugging the Grimm. This was quickly followed with rage and gunfire as Kay swooped in grabbing the duo, chair included, off of the deck and out across the river. She kept it low and fast, the gun fire would not penetrate her wings or body; her passengers were safe. In moments they were across the river and out of sight.

The landing on the other side of the river was possibly the most ungraceful since she was first learning to fly. The load was too awkward and Kay was still to weak to heave the load upward and land on her feet carrying them. Kay attempted it without success. Nick was on the bottom of the pile with chair leg sticking out, those caught dirt first. Everyone tumbled and rolled to a stop. Nick noticed a black SUV pull up. Renard was the first to his feet, quickly followed by the wessen Nick was seeing for the first time. As far a wessen went her face was practically human. She was female but muscular and large perhaps as tall as Renard, with large wings, now tucked back, and tail. She was horribly scarred, with some of the injuries looking to be not fully healed, most noticeably she had missing eye. Renard said something in French to the driver of the SUV, the driver then seemed to relay this information to someone on his cellphone. Renard jogged toward Nick, pulling a pocket knife out. Nick glared at him and struggled.

"I'm just going cut off the ropes." Renard stated. Nick didn't trust him but he wanted the ropes off. He doubted Renard would stab him with the pocket knife, if he was planning to kill him the scythe would have been more effective.

The wessen, now transferred back to human form, righted Nick and the chair, to give them access to the bonds on his wrists. First Renard cut the binds on the legs, careful to stay out of prime striking distance before cutting the ropes holding Nick's hands back. Nick stood quickly, fists clenched but unsteady. Kay took the chair and tossed it an impressive distance back into the river.

"We need to get you to a hospital Nick." Renard said gesturing toward the passenger door. Nick responded by taking a swing at Renard, which he was able deflect with some effort.

"Nick I know I not your favorite person but Eric's men are coming this way right now. I would prefer they know as little as possible about where we are." Nick couldn't argue with that. Whatever Renard's manipulations he apparently wanted Nick alive, an improvement over Eric's plans. Besides that Nick doubted he had the strength left to stop himself from being forced into the car.

So when the wessen began to lightly guide Nick into the back seat he cooperated, just asking her, "What are you?"

The woman answered as she secured Nick's seat-belt, "A gargoyle."

Nick was in shock, he just sat there attempting to understand the events of the night. He was in no shape to pursue the Key. Before he knew it they were close to the hospital. The gargoyle helped Nick out of the SUV before it drove off and told him he would have to walk the rest of the way in; even gave a suggestion as to what to tell the nurses and police. She would watch to make sure he got in okay but would be out of sight. Nick couldn't even look at the Captain, he just limped off toward the hospital.

* * *

(1) "It's me are you here?" After few moments of hearing the response,"Good. Eric is here also and he has the Grimm possibly The Key. Yes, yes. I'm tracking him down now, we will have to move fast. Eric has brought alot of men with him, I'll need some help." Renard grimaces slightly at the response but then nods, "That would be prefect. Good luck."


	3. Chapter 3: Regrouping

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Title**: Conviction

**Chapter Three**: Regrouping

**Notes:** Thank you for the reviews and follows!

* * *

Hank and Monroe where watching Nick get patched up. The doctors said he had a concussion, bruising, several cuts and lacerations; the only thing broken was his nose and no significant internal bleeding. The injuries seemed to be focused on creating pain with the fewest major injuries. Eric did seem to plan for Nick to be beaten for a long time; it would have spoiled his fun if Nick passed out or died too quickly. Nick hadn't told Hank much over the phone, just asked him to get Monroe and meet him at the hospital. That he had been attacked the only people that should know about it at this point were the two of them. They also ran by his house a checked that Juliette was safe. She was asleep in her bed like everything was alright so they left her that way.

Finally, the doctors and nurses seemed to be finishing up with Nick.

"You can talk to him, just don't rile him up." The nurse said, "We want to keep him awake to monitor his concussion. So don't let him sleep, and if he can't stay awake or starts slurring words alert us immediately. A nurse will come by periodically and access him. I think he'll recover quickly, but brain injuries aren't something to be messed around with."

Hank and Monroe nodded to the nurse then approached the battered Grimm, and closed the door to the room.

Monroe opened, "Dude, what happened?"

"Royals." Nick answered with a peculiar look on his face.

"You finish them off and get away?" Monroe continued.

"No. The Captain showed up and got me out."

"The Captain? Does he know?" Hank asked surprised.

"He...Yes." Nick didn't know where to begin explaining. He didn't even know if he understood enough to explain it to anyone.

"The Captain, he's a Royal."

"What?!" Hank exclaimed at the same time Monroe breathed out a, "Dude!"

"But there was this other Royal, Eric, a prince. Eric, he's the one that did this to me and apparently the Captain's brother, well half-brother. Eric he yelled at the Captain for '_protecting the Grimm, against orders' _then threatened to kill him unless he killed me, as a show of '_loyalty'_. Instead he got me out of there."

"So the Captain's on your side?" Hank asked hopefully, and Nick's only response was to shrug with no good answer.

"I don't know man." Monroe said shaking his head. "It could be a power struggle. If they're half-brothers there could be a question as to who's next in line, especially if their father's a King. If your Captain is able to claim Grimm pledged to serve him; it would boost his power. Back in the old days the Grimm were knights to the Royals. He could be trying to gain your loyalty for those ends."

"Yeah that's what I'm thinking. I wouldn't say the Captain is someone I trust anymore. He could be dangerous. I just don't understand why he didn't just tell me right after becoming a Grimm. If he wanted loyalty I would have jumped at anyone who knew something about this world and offered to help me."

"No kidding." Monroe broke in with. "Maybe that has to do with the_ 'against orders thing'_."

"I don't know what to think. Oh and Adalind is back in town she was taking orders from Eric until they had a bit of a spat and she stormed off. We should find her."

"I'll put out an BOLO." Hank volunteered.

"Good. Say that I said one of the people who beat me up said her name and that I think she hired them. It's close enough to the truth but not clear enough that the Captain will know you know. Unless he already knows you've figured it out."

Nick leaned back in his hospital bed and stared up at the ceiling before taking in a deep breath. Turning to Hank and Monroe he started, "Look, guys... This... this is all going to get messy. Messier than it already is. I don't even know if I stand a chance. This isn't your fight, you both should consider leaving town, I don't want to drag you down with me." And he certainly wasn't going to mention the Key.

"Nick, I'm your partner. I've got your back. I don't know what I can do against this stuff but I'm not backing down."

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm sick of these Royals coming around and messing with us, I say lets give 'um hell." Monroe said.

"Thanks, really I'm not sure what I'm up against."

Hank breathed in, "I still can't quite wrap my head around the Captain being involved in all this. Hell Nick, we've both known him for years. He worked his way up the ranks, he went to High School in Portland; I remember Old Captain Peterson used to harass him about playing on the same high school basketball team as his kid. Are you sure?"

"I know it's crazy. This Eric guy was titled as a 'Prince', he's European, French I believe and said he was the Captain's brother. The Captain didn't deny it and he referred to me as a Grimm." Nick said, "I need to talk with him at some point, I just don't even know where to begin. I would rather be in fighting form to do so. I don't even know if he had something to do Juliette's memory loss or her waking up."

"I can go with you when you do talk with him." Monroe volunteered.

"No. I don't want the Captain to know."

"Dude, the Royals put out a hit on me, I'm pretty sure they know about me. Besides I might be able to smell if he's brought back-up to this conversation." Monroe firmly stated, indicating his opinion would not be changed on this topic.

"I'll try not to let it slip that I know about the Wessen world. It might let me watch the Captain more closely. But if he's hidden for this long, I don't know if he'll let much slip." Hank said, the tone of his voice colored with uncertainty. He had known Nick and the Captain for years; it had never occurred to him that the two could ever be so far apart and so far outside the law. Not that the law could cover the situation they were in now. The room grew silent as it's occupants considered this new reality.

"Hey Monroe, what do you know about Gargoyles?" Nick couldn't remember reading anything on them in the books. However he didn't have a reason to be looking for them before now.

"I'm guess this is a Grimm-o-pedia question and not a sudden interest in architecture." Nick nodded and Monroe continued.

"Gargoyles also known as Hüterin Geflügelten, a winged guardian. Not a Wasserspeier like the German for a gargoyle you would find on a old church. A Wasserspeier, or a Water Spewer, is a kind of an Archer Fish Wessen that can split at you hard enough to temporarily blind you, good swimmers too. A Hüterin Geflügelten, as in gargoyles are super rare and super strong. Dude, that is not a translation error you want to make. If you think you're showing up to go against a Wasserspeier and Hüterin Geflügelten shows up, dude just run. I don't know if a Grimm can take one of those out. And if it catches up to you just curl in the fetal position, they tend not to kill things that surrender. If you've pissed it off it'll probably still beat the shit out of you, but it might drop you at a hospital once its done." Monroe paused, "Dude, that's not what happened was it?"

"No, it...she, didn't hurt me."

"Oh, good. I would be a little surprised if one was working as an enforcer for the Royals. Not impossible but they tend to be good guys, which is why you see statues of them on churches and hospitals. They kind of famed for protecting kids and the helpless; hard to kill too."

"Have you ever met one?" Asked Nick.

Monroe swallowed and examined his palms a little guiltily. "Yeah, it was before I had the whole Wieder thing completely down. It not portion of my life that I'm proud of. I wasn't hunting humans or Wessen, just rabbits and deer; but control runs a little thin when hunting like that. And after dinner, sometimes, I kind of, would, you know..." Monroe finished off quickly, "chase people through the woods and rough them up." Clearly uncomfortable Monroe pushed on. "They could always walk away, well most of them ran away, some could only limp off. Well on one night this Hüterin Geflügelten saw me go after someone, and stopped me. Scared the _shit_ out of me, said that she would not allow what I was doing to continue. She gagged me with my own shirt and dragged me out deeper into the woods. A mile in or so she released the gag, and I started apologizing, promising that nothing like this would ever happen again. That this was the first time I had ever done something like this. Well... she knew that was a lie, she had been in the forest that night looking for me. Said that there had been a cluster of reports in the area about what I was doing. And that it was time for me to see how fun my 'hobby' was from the other side of things. She yelled at me to run for it, and I was too afraid to not to run. She chased me a couple of miles, landing hits and herding my sorry arse even deeper into the woods. After it felt like my legs where about to fall off, she pinned me down a just started wailing on me. I mean really she was holding back her blows, otherwise I would have been soup, but at the time I thought she was going kill me. She didn't even break anything, more than anything she was just giving me a good scare. Then she let me up to run off again."

"She let you go?" Nick prompted.

"I thought she had, but no, not really. It took me the rest of the night and into the morning to stumble back home. Walked through my front door, locked it behind me, breathed a sigh of relief and then just froze. I could smell her in the house, I looked over to see her sitting on my couch just waiting for me. Never noticed her taking my wallet. She told me to sit down, unless of course I felt up for another chase. I really didn't want a repeat. Also I was basically resigned at the point, I knew what I was doing was wrong and that there was nothing I could do to defend myself against a pissed-off Hüterin Geflügelten. So, I just sat down with my head in my hands waiting to find out what she would do to me. She just talked and asked questions, and hour later or so got up to leave saying she would be back to 'check in' on me. After that I only _really_ screwed up once, and caught it pretty good. Even with that she was pretty decent to me. She would check in on me periodically, we'd talk about if I was having any control issues. She set me up with a good group, introduced me to Larry and the guys. Really she helped me a lot, and any stupid urge I got to chase or attack anyone I would remember right away how it felt on the other side of that kind of thing. She helped me talk through things too. And there's nothing that works to keep you on the wagon like a winged demon who can and will beat the shit out of you if you mess up." Monroe finished with a bit of uncomfortable laughter.

"So you're afraid of her?"

"Not really. I mean if she's _pissed _off at me, _hell yes_, that is not going to be a pleasant evening, but there's trust there too. I wanted to be Wieder before she showed up, she just helped me get there. After the first few 'check ins' all our interactions were all friendly. I'd be happy to bump into her somewhere. The drop in visits decreased over the years, until she just never came by again. I don't know if she died, moved on or what. She wouldn't tell me much about herself."

"You didn't think that was weird, her not sharing about her life?" Hank asked.

"A little, but it was a little like not knowing a lot about your shrink's home life. She just said that her childhood and home-life were complicated and she preferred to keep her personal life personal."

"Do you think she the same Gargoyle?"

"They're rare so its possible what does she look like? Do you know her name?"

"I didn't catch a name. She had dark straight hair, about 5'6" to 5'9", 30s, green...eye. The other eye looked like it had been gouged out, recently. She looked pretty roughed up. But she was able to carry and glide me and the Captain across the River."

"Wait she carried you and the Captain and _flew_ you across a River?" Hank blurted out.

"They're strong. One could probably glide a car packed with people." Monroe said as Nick nodded his head. "I don't know, that could be the same Gargoyle, but maybe not. The one I knew basically matched that description, except for having both her eyes. But there are a lot of people who would fit that description. The one I know her name's Kay but I really can't see her working for the Royals."

Eric stood drink in hand observing the river. He was drunker than he should be, but he hated waiting, and with his female companion absent drinking was the best way to pass the time. It made him morose and reflective, which he hated. Remember the past was never pleasant for him, however right now the present wasn't particularly inspiring either. Eric's plans had turned into sand in his hands. He had the Key, the Grimm and leverage over his brother. Then short minutes later the scales sifted against him. The Grimm would have more reasons to pledge to his brother now, if he got the Key as well; his supporters weak-willed and fair-weather would flee him. Eric had most of his people out searching for Adalind, but he was at a steep disadvantage. This was his brother's city, Sean had resources here, also he knew better how Adalind would react and where she would go.

Furious calls back home had confirmed Kay's escape from his dungeons weeks ago. The idiot he left in charge had apparently hoped to find and recapture Kay without his Prince finding out she was ever missing. He would be taking her place in the dungeon when he returned. It took a lucky break and a small army to capture her last time. If she was returned to strength, she was a dangerous Wessen to have as an enemy.

Unbidden the memory of her bound in chains, in pain and looking at him presented itself. The look wasn't rage or fear, it was betrayal and condemnation, and it burned something in Eric he couldn't name. He tried gouging the stare out, quite literally. Which only seemed to cause the image to haunt him that much more. She and Sean left him, betrayed him, not that he needed them. Just like when he six and had the flu, he didn't need her to stay up with him. He didn't need her lemon ginger tea, cold compresses, horrible singing or menthol chest rubs. Once she left and he was nine and sick again, no one even bothered with such frivolous motions. Condemnation from a former slave, indeed, it was absurd, he hadn't done anything outside of his Royal right. In a rage he threw his drink at the nearest wall. The shattering glass was never as satisfying as it should be.

Adalind had just left the house in the suburbs her mother had purchased years ago as a back-up, she took the cash stored there to run again. South America sounded like a lovely place to visit and plan her next move. About two minutes after leaving the house; red and blue lights showed up in her rear view mirror. Sean couldn't know she was in Portland yet, could he? There is nothing for it. If she runs for it she'll more likely then not end arrested and get easily transferred to his precinct. She pulled over to the berm, calmed her beating heart and got ready to plaster on her best welcoming innocent smile. She rolled down the window and waited.

The officer approached, "Good Evening... miss. Please take the keys out of the ignition and place them on the dash."

"Of course officer. What seems to be the problem?" Adalind said turning on her smile and complying.

The office returned it, "Just a break light out. I still have to follow the full procedure, I should be able to get you out of here quickly. License and registration please."

Adalind undid her seat belt and leaned over to get the rental papers out of the glove box, her fear retracting. Of all the times for a light to be burnt out. The fear and panic slammed back into full force as her door was opened and a taser was pressed against her back.

"Now you can cooperate and step out of this vehicle, or I can pull the trigger on this taser until you pass out; your choice."

"Yes, sir." She said as she backed out of the car. This wasn't good, and a very bad day to be wearing heels. Once she was out of the car, she tried bolting for it out of desperation. She got a step away before the leads of the taser launched into her backs, collapsing her to the ground. Adalind first thought was"Shit!", her first question launching it self into her mind was, "Who was screaming?" As she realized the screaming was coming from her throat, the blackness crept in and a moment later she passed out.


	4. Chapter 4: Interrogation

**Title**: Conviction

**Chapter Four**: Interrogation

* * *

When Adalind awoke her first thought was wondering why she was so sore, and then remembering the TASERing. Police officers don't TASER people for routine traffic stops and they most definitely do not chain up suspects in abandoned factories. She also noted that the Key was also missing, perfect. Slowly she started to look around not wanting to alert her captors that she was awake. There was a gallon jug of water, a roll of damp looking single-sheet toilet paper, and a bucket Adalind sincerely hoped she wouldn't be using. No one was visible but there was a camera hanging from one of the overhead pipes, they might already know she was awake. That she still didn't know who 'they' were was in no way helping her rapidly swelling headache. None of the options are good. If these were Eric's men, they would kill her for taking the key, most likely with torture. If these were Sean's men, they would want the cure for the curse, which she didn't have; and even if she did have the solution they might still kill her. If these were friends of the Grimm, well that would likely result in her death also. So her best hope right now was that this is the work of a rival family, the least likely but most promising option.

The man still wearing the police uniform came walking through the door. He sat in a steel folding chair just outside of where Adalind could reach. He set a old time black leather medicine bag on the floor next to him. Adalind sat up, noting that the leg iron connected to a thick chain, perhaps three feet long, that was secured to the a set on pipes along the wall.

"Miss." He started.

Adalind broke in with fake cheer, "Please call me Adalind. What's your name?"

"Your name, or my name, do not matter for the purposes of this interaction, miss."

"This interaction?" She said raising an eyebrow.

"I have series of questions I'm going to ask you, miss." The man stated, his expression was blank. The fake warmth and friendliness from the traffic stop was gone.

"Why should I answer them?" Adalind asked aggressively.

"Because it will be easier on you if you do."

"No, no see you're getting it wrong. You are supposed to offer me something, money, better accommodations or... that I'll get out of here alive." Adalind maneuvered flashing a smile.

"I will not lie to you in this room, miss. The first two options aren't on the table, the third isn't up to me." Stated coldly.

"Well you could put in a good word for me."

"Miss, if it where up to me I'd slit throat now and be done with it." He said flatly without anger, malice or impatience.

"But it's not up you." Adalind said warily, "Who is it up to then."

"It does not benefit me to tell you that. As a said before, miss; I have series of questions I'm going to ask you. Some of them are simple, some of them are more complex. We both know the answers to a number of them. Some I need to know and you will know the answers. Other questions I know you have no way of answering. As long as you answer honestly and do not attempt to manipulate me things will go easily for you."

It took everything Adalind had to not panic, to not shake. She needed time to think, to find a way out of this.

"I...I can hardly answer questions on a empty stomach can I?" Adalind hopelessly stalled.

The man reached over to the black bag, removed sandwich in a plastic bag and tossed in to Adalind.

"Then eat miss." The man then leaned back in his chair waiting for Adalind to finish her meal.

Adalind opened the sandwich bag, it looked and smelled like a Chicken Toastie from Kenny & Zuke's. Unsettling, since it was what she always would get when the law office she worked at got in sandwiches from them. But she was hungry, so she dug in slowly. And the man just sat, not impatiently just waiting. It could be a coincidence, but if not the man not only knows her favorite sandwich but that she would stall by asking for food. She would like to think she manipulated him into giving her food, but it did not feel like he was doing anything he did not plan to do. Then sooner than she would have liked, even with eating slowly, she was at the last bite. Time for questions, she looked up at the man. He hit a button on his wristwatch and waited some more. After ten minutes Adalind was about to start asking the questions, and after thirty minutes she did. He did not even acknowledge her being in the room. Later then that he grabbed this bag and stood.

"I will be back in a few hours miss."

"What?" Adalind was genuinely flummoxed.

"The sandwich, one of your favorites, was laced with a number of things, which have absorbed into your system by now."

Adalind panicked went over to the the bucket to stick her fingers down her throat.

"Miss. There is no need for that. Everything has already adsorbed and you will be vomiting before much longer anyway."

She looked up at the man as he walked from the room. She felt her gut gurgle unpleasantly and felt the beginnings of nausea in her stomach. She was screwed, she knew it and they knew it; but she still did not know who 'they' were.

* * *

"Ian, over here." Ian Harmon walked over to the Kay and the banks of computers currently being brought online by the band of Mellifers. Kay didn't wait for him to acknowledge her, she just dove in.

"I got the cooling systems up and running for the server farm, and enough fuel to last off the grid for ten times as long as it should take to do this. Buzz Lightyear and gang here should have everything up and running in a hour or so." The Mellifers looked up as one toward their nicknamed compatriot. He just rolled his eye's and continued typing away, linking up the servers to bounce data around the globe. "The perimeter is set up with camera and motion sensors, a couple groups ready to intercept anyone wandering into the area. We not sure how many people Eric has with him, so we've stacked the teams thicker that planned. We also have 6 people out looking for Adalind. Two team are tracking down Eric and his group, trying to get numbers and locations. Sean's working a GPS location and a trace and trap a his brothers phone..."

"He can get that?"

"He'll pull some favors, keep it off official books. As for the _Other_ teams, they are all called. It's no communication from here on in. We are on the count down, I'd try getting some sleep tonight because about 36 hours from now the siege will be underway. I'll go out and get updates from the teams in Portland, but no one else will be in or out of here until an hour before go. "

"You think we can really pull this off."

"No. I've been toiling for years toward a goal I think we can't possibly achieve. Dumbass. It has to work, if not I'm just going to have to fly over there and start ripping off heads until it does work. We waited long enough, hell I've waited too long to see this through. So _Fearless Leader, _its time to put on your big boy pants and get it done."

"Kay, your motivational speeches suck."

"Then why are you smiling."

"Gallows humor perhaps." Kay smacked him playfully over the head and limped on over to the next task at hand. He wanted to tell her to rest, but out ranking her or not, she would not slow now. Not now after so much time and sacrifice.

* * *

Nick just got confirmation that his head injuries would be fine, no signs of swelling. So against his doctors recommendation he was checking himself out of the hospital. He already felt miles better after a couple hours of rest.

He climbed into Monroe's car and turning to his friend said, "Thanks."

"No problem dude. What's the plan?"

"I think I need to have a _conversation_ with the Captain."

"Huh, no kidding man."

"I would like you to be there when I do. Out of site, but I figure you can send a text or something if the Captain brings... company."

"Okay, but what are we going to do if that Gargoyle shows up?"

"Time to go to the trailer... She saved my life. So, I'm not looking to kill her but I would like to know what I'm up against. If there's an Achilles heel I want to know about it. I'll set up a meeting with the Captain, and research until then."

Nick's phone rang and a blocked number flashed across the screen. Monroe glanced over to Nick as he answered the phone. Whoever it was made Nick look like he was about to kill someone.

* * *

The trace was set up on Eric's phone he wouldn't be able to listen in but he would have Eric's location, who he was calling and for how long. Looking down the list of conversation one line made his stomach sink, Eric had called Nick. The conversation was under five minutes but still Eric would not have to say much to cause trouble. Renard didn't know what his brother had told Nick, but at least Nick didn't know if Eric was telling the truth.

Nick's number then flashed up on Renard's phone.

"Yes." Renard answered.

"We need to talk."

"Yes, we do. I assume my brother contacted you."

"Yes, is what he said true?"

"At least some of it would be."

A noise of rage, almost a growl sounded, before Nick took a deep breath and continued, "You remember that house in the woods where Hank shot the Blutbad holding the little girl."

"Yeah...yes."

"Meet me there at 7pm."

"See you then." Renard said, "Nick, I.." And the the line went dead. Nick hanging up on him wasn't a great sign but it was better than him screaming through the phone at him. Or Nick ambushing him somewhere.

* * *

Adalind felt here stomach lurch again, and she started dry heaving yet again. By now her bowels and stomach were empty. She felt shaky, over heated and her abs were so sore that she would cry if she could spare the water.

* * *

Sean Renard knew this conversation was not likely to go well. It shouldn't bother him that the trust and respect Nick once held for him was destroyed. He was used to manipulating and betraying; he could look his own father in the eye from the time he was a child and plot against him. What he was not accustomed to was manipulating and betraying someone he trusts and respects. His best strategy would be to not physically defend himself. Any offensive move would be repelled with greater force. He would count on Nick's conscience to out weigh his anger. Perhaps taking a beating would offer a catharsis and help Sean with his own conscience. Of course if his beating became severe enough Kay would intercede despite his request to work this out without her assistance. The best conclusion he was hoping for was détente.

Renard's black SUV pulled up two minutes before the appointed time to the house of the Blutbad that Nick and Hank rescued that little girl from. He exited the car, took a large breath and walked up to meet the obviously furious Grimm and stated, "We need to talk."

"Let's start with this." Nick said as he swung and connected a fist with Renard's head stunning him. A jab broke his nose, starting a trickle of blood down his lip. This was followed with a knee to gut, dropping Renard to all fours. At this point Nick broke contact, circling, deciding what to do next; off-put that his opponent didn't seem to have any intention of fighting back. He walked up behind Renard, grabbing his hair and pulling him up to his knees.

Nick pulled back his fist to land another blow as Renard broke in with, "Perhaps you would like some answers before I'm beaten unconscious?" Still Renard had not made and move to either defend himself or even shield himself. He just held out his arms to his side and stared at the Grimm's coiled fist.

"To your feet." Nick bit out. As Renard got to his feet Nick ripped his suit jacket from his shoulders. "Place your hands on the wall, feet spread."

Again Renard complied, he placed himself about two feet away from the wall, then leaned forward spread eagle against the wall, head bowed. Nick searched the jacket, finding only a phone before discarding both items to a pile. Nick patted Renard down, surprised to not find any weapons only house keys and a wallet. He searched the wallet, mostly to see if that would get any reaction. Finding nothing notable it the wallet he tossed the keys and the wallet to the pile.

Nick surveyed the man in front of him. Waiting for for his next order, apparently, he hadn't shifted since he cooperatively assumed the position. It felt like another manipulation. Nick had expected a conflict, an ultimatum, that was what he was preparing himself for but that wasn't what showed up. He couldn't help but lose steam; he doesn't usually hit people once they've surrendered. Nick did want answers, Renard had something to tell him and evidently was willing to take a beating for the opportunity. Nick was trying to make up his mind and stepped toward Renard, noticing the man tensing, bracing for the next volley of fury. Not wanting to disappoint, _His Highness_, Nick landed and punch to his unprotected ribs. The crack of breaking rib bone, was an uncomfortable sound, and it drew a gasp from Renard and momentary buckling of his knees. He brought a hand from the wall as the injury was reflexively shielded. Nick had wanted a reaction, to hold on the rage but this felt wrong. As Renard returned his hand to the wall again opening himself for attack, Nick couldn't continue. This was one of those sticky moments. Do the ends justify the ends? Certainly not if his only end was revenge. How much farther off from this was branding Wessen like the Grimms of old? This was not how he imagined a prince to act.

"Face me. I want those answers." Renard removed his hands from the wall and slowly turned to face Nick.

Renard warily regarded Nick wondering how far he would get through those '_answers_' before earning another round of bruises.

"My brother is here in Portland first for the key and secondarily to see if I can be trusted. Now after the ship his goal will most likely be to kill both of us and then be able to take his time looking for the key. Are you aware of the ressitance movement, the Läufer?"

"Yes."

"Well they have a stake in keeping The Key out of the Royal's hands. Eric has brought considerable forces with him, more than you or I can repel. I have some... contacts within the resistance, they are willing to help us. It's in keeping with their goals, so I believe they can be trusted to work towards ridding Portland of my brother's influence and insuring that you continue on as a custodian of the key. It would help if we, you and I could work together towards this goal."

"Work together! With everything I've found out in the last day how could I trust you! Why didn't you tell me!"

"I couldn't tell you, I needed to keep the appearance of following my brother and the family's directives. If they were aware that you knew who I am, there would be certain expectations. I have tried to run interference but it hasn't always worked."

"How do I know you haven't been manipulating me most of my life!"

To this Renard almost looked annoyed. "Nick I've known you since about the same time you joined the force. I didn't know you had Grimm blood-line. I didn't know about blood until you put in for the position in my precinct. I always do a more through background check through my_ other_ sources on the people who work closely with me. I do so to insure that my brother or one of the other families has not placed a spy or assassin with me without my knowledge. With that background check my sources figured out who your Aunt was. Even then the likelihood that you would become a Grimm was small. Most Grimm get their inheritance as soon as a close Grimm relative dies. Its much rarer, but not unheard of, for the inheritance to wait until a second death. Even with those long odds, for there also to be Key involved... Hell Nick, if I was that good at manipulating things; this whole conflict would have been settled before you graduated High School. If anything made things more difficult and complicated."

"Do you know who wanted my Aunt dead?" Renard instantly regretted bringing up the topic but there was no way to avoid it.

"Yes. There is something you should hear."

"Were you involved?"

Renard paused, he wanted Nick to hear the phone message Marie left before making his explanations. However, his hesitation was not well received. Nick's rage over took him, and he punch Renard in the gut. Then grabbed both of his upper arms slamming back him into the wall, hard. Renard felt a pop, as his left shoulder dislocated from the force of the blow and briefly he cried out. He was pinned to the wall, unable to stop the lancing pain through his shoulder.

"Were YOU involved?!" The Grimm bit out.

"I did what Marie asked."

"What! I don't believe you." Nick leaned in unknowing pressing even harder against the injured shoulder.

"That much is clear." Renard gasped. Nick heard the tone, noticed the expression of pain and released him. Renard immediately hunched over and grabbed his shoulder.

"I..." Nick was about to say that he was sorry, but honestly he was too angry to be sorry. He just didn't want to be a man who tortured information out of people. "Is it broken?"

"No." Renard glanced over, "I think it's just dislocated. Your Aunt left a message for you, as proof of what she asked of me. Perhaps you would like to listen to it before continuing my interrogation."

"Yeah...Sure." Nick was still holding on to the anger but he knew he shouldn't allow it to control him; "I can pop that shoulder back in." Renard considered it briefly, nodded and then angled his body so that Nick had better access to the joint. He wasn't even sure if this was something Nick knew how to do, but he wasn't about to rebuff the small olive branch. Nick grasped the arm applying downward pressure, bent the elbow 90 degrees and began to rotate the joint until in popped into place with a grunt from Renard.

"Thank you." The joint was still sore but Renard could move his arm again. Nick would have thought that his Captain would have been affronted or furious to be man-handled and battered like this. Now the man just looked exhausted, and unsurprised by violence pointed in his direction. Nick watched as he gingerly fished his phone out of the pile of belongings. He seemed cautious to keep everything in Nick's full view. Retrieving the phone he began to pull something up in a browser window.

Typing in a password and then hitting play before handing the phone to Nick. Nick drifted away from Renard as a recording of the familiar voice of his Aunt emanated from the phone.

"Hello, Honey. It's me. This message is in case things become complicated and I sorry but it has to be vague. It partially about the item I gave you to protect. I thought I had shook off the people following me, before I came here, but I didn't. I'm going to try and throw them off you. There's a man, the one who will give you this message; he doesn't want the item. I have a reason to believe him. I have asked him to send people after me. I don't know enough about him to say to trust him, I don't know his plans and I know he's not telling me everything. But at least one or more of the people sent after me, where because I asked him to. Some compounds interact in unexpected ways, but if this works how I... how we planned you may never need to hear this message. Trust yourself Honey, and good luck." There was some shuffling heard and then the message ended. Nick sank against the side of the house, staring at the phone and replaying the words in his head.

When Nick had told Marie about the hexenbiest attempting to inject venom into her response didn't make sense; but not much did at that time. She gave him a piercing look and said, "It can't stop until I'm dead, that will complicate things. I didn't plan to die in this room. You did well, really; death is coming for me and no compound can stop that. Trust yourself Honey, and good luck." When Nick looked up Renard approached.

"Why would she ask anyone to do that?"

"Ideally she wouldn't have died in Portland. The venom would have interacted with the Chemotherapy, the reaction would have been... temporarily restorative. It might have given her an additional week of full strength." It did fit with what Marie said to him but Nick didn't trust Renard. Nick's eyes narrowed in doubt, he stood aggressively and Renard tensed.

"By all means confirm what I have said with an apothecary, they should be able to confirm the effects of those _compounds_ mixed."

"I will." Nick replied noticing the connection being drawn to Marie's message.

"The plan was for her to leave Portland looking strong, like the length of her hospital stay was due to the attack and not the cancer. This would keep my cover, keep the evidence of my working against my brother hidden and offer some protection for you. I was then to convince the Families that she had left Portland with the Key. Historically some Grimms have awoken when a family member's heart stopped but was restarted. You coming into your inheritance could have been explained by Marie's hospitalization."

"She would have died all alone."

"No. Someone close to me, the Gargoyle you met, was going to look after her until the end. She would have been as comfortable as possible."

"Instead she died in the fighting someone in the hall way of a hospital." Nick stated, anguish evident.

"Yes."

"You sent them too." Nick ground out.

"Yes." Nick glared and Renard understood that a more detailed explanation would be required, and he was probably going to get punched, again. Renard folded his hands behind his back and continued, "Once the first attack didn't go as planned, then venom was no longer and option. It's difficult to get and has a short eight-hour shelf life. If I stopped the attacks at that point it would have raised too many questions. So, I switched the attacks to humans, hoping Marie could gather enough strength to follow through on the plan."

"But not before pulling the officers guarding her."

"Correct." Nick looked at Renard. Again having placed himself in range for Nick to take out his anger. Part of Nick wanted to summon the anger to continue pummeling the man; mostly Nick was just tired mentally if not physically. He didn't think he would understand Renard even with all the facts laid out. He was dangerous. And if his dealings with Adalind had proven anything to him it was leaving dangerous people alive was a bad idea; even if they seemed disarmed. Perhaps that was the point of Renard being so cooperative, to make a discussion to kill him difficult. Renard shifted as Nick's considered him.

"What, are you trying to figure out what I'm thinking?"

"Well, I imagine it mostly hinges of if anything I said can be believed and whether or not I'll be losing my head tonight." Renard stated matter-of-factually.

"Why show UP AT ALL IF THERE'S THAT QUESTION! FUCK! WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST SHOOT ME! Hell if you didn't want to get you're hands dirty with it you could have just left me on that boat with your brother. Why risk your 'cover' getting me to a hospital. Why...why..any of it." Nick was utterly exasperated, his expression open and emotions free for anyone to read. At that point Renard did look Nick in the eye. Nick could see regret, and his expression did seem honest; but it was nothing Nick would bet anything on.

"You are someone I trust, respect and care about. Your anger at me isn't without...ample justification. So your, loss of respect for me and your wish cause me harm doesn't change my point of view. I don't want you dead or harmed; but I do understand my actions have caused harm, to you and to others. I... I am trying to do the right thing. In people like my brother and the Verrat I see the potential for another World War, for plunging the world centuries backward in progress; for the mass murder of people that don't fit within a certain small view of the world and for anyone who gets in the way. I believe those ends justify the means I have taken and will take." Renard again broke eye contact and resumed his position of waiting.

"If you don't want me harmed, why involve yourself with Juliette. I don't see any grand world cause in that." Nick ground out dangerously. Renard looked over to Nick, Eric must have relayed his interest in Juliette, most likely in worst possible interpretation.

"Adalind put Juliette into that coma outside of any plans I had. My only involvement was to threaten her mother into making something to wake her up. I promise that my only intention was to wake her up. The solution had some side-effects I was not aware of and most likely, intentionally, wasn't informed of. It resulted in a compulsion that is effecting both Juliette and myself; I think its slowly driving us both insane. A curse that I was attempting to find a cure for with no success. Hopefully a resolution can be found soon there are some contacts I was previously cut off from that may be able to help with resolving this...issue. And I'm still searching for Adalind; we may be able to get answers from her."

"What about The Key." Nick asked digging for more information.

"If the we can find The Key, it will be returned to you. If that is your wish. Either way it would be my proposal to tell the Families that I am in possession of The Key, a photo would be enough proof at this point."

Nick didn't know if he believed that The Key would be returned to him. And in any case between Eric and the Captain he would prefer that The Key not go to Eric. He might not know what to make of Renard but he knew Eric was a bloody little psychopath. "Why do you want the Royals to think you have The Key?"

"It should slow or stop the stream of assassins looking for it; at least for the time being. If it is believed to be in my possession the other Royals will see this as a power play and believe The Key could be secured from me with the promise of status, land, money and or power. Which it wouldn't. I'm not interested in obtaining those things. Also, when assassins do come I should be able to deter or dispose of them effectively."

"Why would you take on that danger?"

"I'm used to it. The Families have a list of reasons to kill me, aligning with the resistance and being born would still out rank having The Key in my possession."

"I'll think about it. If you have information about Adalind, The Key or your Brother will you share it?"

"Yes, I will attempt to keep you informed."

"I need to go think." Nick started to backup and walk to where his car was parked.

"I am sorry Nick."

"I trusted you, I..." Nick's frustration bubbled over. Nick's fists clenched and Renard's posture tensed. Nick let the moment drop, and resumed his walk towards his car.

Renard turned to retrieved his belongings and muttered to himself, "That could have been worse."


End file.
